


Such People

by shakespearespaz



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakespearespaz/pseuds/shakespearespaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A exploration into the psyche of Randall and his fixation on Rachel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Such People

Randall Flynn was not in the business of underestimating people.

He dealt with suits all day, men who projected immutability and power; he interacted with them pleasantly, all the while firmly aware that at any moment, just by applying the right amount pressure, he could have them crying for their mothers.

The Mathesons and their colleagues were easier than businessmen. Their small scientific endeavor had no idea the power it was capable of, and with something like an unborn child at stake, getting what he wanted from them was a simple, almost enjoyable task.

He never encountered any resistance that he could not match from the husband and wife team, and he would joke to himself at night that they were the kind of people he both truly liked and pitied. He had once been them. They were the good guys, eager and idealistic, with more skill and knowledge than common sense. He knew they did not trust him, but they still trusted the establishment.

Rachel had never been any different from the others.

Like her husband, she was always a little lost in the tidy, formidable Department of Defense buildings. They sat uncomfortably in his office, trying hard to fit into the bureaucratic blues and greys and stiff chairs. Rachel’s orange sweater stuck out like a sore thumb and as gracious as she and Ben were, he saw them fumble, unsure how to deal with the facades around them.

He knew she had a place where she could explore her full potential, but he had never thought twice about it. The few times he noticed her working in the lab, all he still saw was the girl next door, long limbs awkwardly folded under her, completely engrossed in something smaller than his thumb.

As their plans for the weapon grew to fruition, he lost interest in the Mathesons themselves. Their protests had stopped being intriguing to him and had just become tedious. He had also grown weary of travelling to their lab at the University of Chicago and, under the very legitimate guise of security, forced them to relocate to a DoD lab.

Two days before the day that would live on in infamy, Randall found himself at work late, a usual occurrence. But he was impatient; Rachel and Ben had managed to barter two more days to run more tests, as if two days could make any difference.

He was tired of dealing with them, having to stoop to their plebian notions, unaware of the greater plan that was about to be enacted. It was this frustration which led him inexplicably to their lab; expecting to find an empty room that he could rant to.

Instead, he found Rachel leaning over a laptop as she sat with crossed legs on a table, the blue glow of the screen lighting her scrunched face.

“Don’t you have children you should be home with?”

She looked up. He had startled her.

“Ben’s with them,” she replied coolly, “I don’t want anything to go wrong, since you insist on pushing forward with this.”

She ran a hand through her loose hair and leaned forward, trying to ignore him.

“I want it done. And I’m your boss.”

“And my friend?”

He smiled, a neat little line of teeth mocking her.

“Always, Rachel.”

Refocusing on her work was a difficult task as Randall stepped closer.

“You know how badly this could end, don’t you?” she cautioned him.

“You can never win if you don’t take any risks.” He was an expert at assuring politicians, in his calm, smooth voice, but Rachel had grown tired of him too; she wasn’t buying it.

“Randall, you can’t understand the potential destruction we could bring about.” It was one of her final pleas.

“You mean potential good, Rachel. Only by building the greatest weapon can we ensure peace.”

“No.” She shook her head softly, knowing her battle against him was hopeless. “Ben can’t even understand, none of the others. This could end everything.”

He studied her, at the time wishing that she of all of them could comprehend his vision. After a moment, he silently left the woman to her feeble efforts to change the course of future events.

That encounter was the Rachel he remembered as he struggled to rebuild what the Blackout had taken from all of them.

She was the woman who had known, better than her colleagues, better than her husband, better than him. He had recognized in many ways long ago that she was smart, but as he imagined a new world, she became the brilliant scientist that would help bring his vision to life.

Monroe was clouded, ambitious but without a clear idea of his path for the future. But under the pretense of a partnership, the General would hand him the resources he needed—starting with Rachel Matheson.

As he sped towards the rebel base, Randall was excited to meet her again, to see how the years had changed her, for he had pressed Monroe for details. She had toughened up, learned to go after what she wanted with a vengeance. He wanted to think she had learned such ruthlessness from him. Or perhaps he had simply forced it out of her.  

The point was they were kindred spirits. One could only take so much before they turned on the universe and fought back. And they were doing it for a better world; a better world was what he had promised himself years ago when one life too many had been cruelly taken.

And now, Randall swore he would build that brave new world, regardless of how many more lives he had to take. Rachel would understand.

Rachel would understand, or he would make her.


End file.
